Gotham: Rewrite
by Callian31
Summary: Oh how things can change. A bullet never fired, a night not remembered, a boy never scarred. Gotham has changed, but as always it remains the same. That's what Barbara's noticed when she woke up with memories of a life she never lived and no memories of the one she did. Gotham needs a Bat, and she might as well give it to them, before it's too late.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

 **A Normal Morning**

 ** _Perhaps the story is told another way._**

 ** _Even so, some things never change._**

Bruce Wayne awoke at 9:00 a.m. that day. The sun was already in the sky, and there was no real need to turn on a light since the room was illuminated enough by the outdoor light coming in through the window. The bedroom was an absurdly large area to live in, the bed itself was probably bigger than what monarchs slept on, and was a whole 2 ½ stories tall. A piano, assorted paintings, a weapons display case, and pool table occupied the parts of the room that weren't taken up by the bed which had a small side-table on either side of it. The one on Bruce's side was simple, functional, and bought at a discount furniture store. The one on the other side though, was made of the most extravagant (and expensive) pieces of wood on the planet. Imported from Africa or something. Personally, Bruce didn't see the point in ordering such an extravagant furnishing from AFRICA of all places, but his wife was someone who obsessed over such things. He didn't really question it, though. She was his wife after all, and she did have her quirks, but he still loved her.

Getting up, Bruce put on his morning robe and went to the bathroom down the hall brushed his teeth. Staring at the reflection before him he almost thought he had two black eyes. Then he realized they were simply rings caused by sleep deprivation as a result of working until 3:00 a.m. last night. Bruce was many things, a night person was not one of those things. Nope, for him it was always up at the crack of dawn to get to work and early to bed at night to do the same thing the next morning. 9:00 a.m. was a bit later than what he was used to as far as waking up was concerned, but it wasn't a bad thing to shake things up a bit every now and then.

Setting the tooth brush down, he returned to his room and entered his walk-in closet, changing into a T-Shirt and Jeans. Today was Saturday, which meant it was a day off of work, and family time for him. Picking up his phone and putting it in his pocket, he headed down to the Kitchen to find Alfred almost finished with cooking breakfast. Bruce took a seat at the table and picked up the latest copy of the Gotham Gazette on the counter. "Morning Alfred," Bruce said.

"Good morning, Master Bruce," Alfred politely replied, setting the food out on the table and taking his seat at the table. At around that time, Damian entered the room.

"Morning, son," Bruce said cheerfully, flipping to the next page.

"Good Morning, Father," Damian said politely, "Good Morning, Pennyworth." Alfred acknowledge the greeting and placed a napkin in his lap.

The clacking of heels could be heard as the next member of the Wayne Household entered.

"Morning, Talia," Bruce said as Talia bent down and kissed him on the cheek.

"Good Morning, Beloved," Talia said, taking her seat between her husband and son.

"A Good Morrow to you, Bruce," a fifth person said.

"Oh, I didn't know you'd come to visit, Ra's," Bruce said, slightly surprised. Finished with the newspaper for now he folded it up and placed it on the middle of the table.

"Well, I was in Gotham on unexpected business and thought I'd drop by for a bit," Ra's explained, "You're up late."

"Long night at the office," Bruce replied. Ra's al Ghul nodded in understanding.

"Ah, it appears we're the last ones here," said a voice Bruce had known all his life.

"We'll win the next race for sure!" said another, jokingly.

Bruce merely chuckled and greeted them, "Morning Mom, Morning Dad."


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

 **Learning to Walk Again**

Barbara Gordon woke up to an alarm clock blasting an annoyingly catchy song in her ears. K-Pop, the thing of the devil and the world's greatest wake-up alarm. Stretching her arms she got out of bed and opened the door to her room and walked into the hallway. The hallway in the house was spacious enough, she guessed. The mayor's house had always been extravagant no matter the occupants so it really wasn't much of a surprise that the hallway was built to show-off a bit. Letting out a yawn she walked into the bathroom, got out her toothbrush, put the toothpaste on the brush, and started brushing.

Wait. No, stop for a moment and back up. She walked into the bathroom. Walked. That shouldn't be possible, it just shouldn't. She'd been shot by the Joker, paralyzed for life, she was Oracle, she was… she was… Where was she? The mayor's house? Looked like it. She'd been in here enough times for both vigilante and civilian work that she would recognize it, but why was she here now? And why had she woken up in one of the residential rooms.

"You're up early, Barbara. I can't believe you actually listened to your alarm clock for once in your life. Dad's going to have a heart attack when he finds out," that voice said at the doorway. Barbara's blood ran cold and she froze. She knew that voice and she knew it well. That evil, accursed, twisted voice that had caused so much pain, so much misery, so much death. It was one of the few voices that she truly feared. A reaction not even Joker could get out of her. She stared at the mirror, not wanting to look, but knowing she'd have to. So, she glanced to the side, and bit down on the toothbrush, not trusting her own mouth.

"Barbara? Are you ok?" asked James Gordon Jr., her brother, "You're going pale, is everyth-"

It was that moment her father decided to show up, and thank God he did. He fastened a sleeve button and said, "There you are James! Now, I have a meeting with the city council today and I want you- Oh, Barbara! You're up early! Do you have a test today? Barbara?" She just stared at the two of them for the longest time. Confused, and very much afraid. Had James brainwashed their father? Had they both been brainwashed? Or maybe, just maybe, her entire life as she thought she'd known it were implanted memories!

No, no, no reason to think about that right now. Right now she had to come up with a reply quickly. She was Barbara Gordon, former Batgirl, current Oracle, daughter of police commissioner (mayor?) James Gordon, and 100% crime fighter. She thought fast, and she knew exactly what to say.

"Who are you?" she asked, "Are- are you my father? I-I mean I- I'm Barabara, you said?" The two men in the doorway stared at her for the longest time, wrapping their heads around what she just said. Her father gave a slight smile.

"Sweetie, whatever joke you're playing it isn't funny," he said. She could tell from the tone in his voice though, he didn't quite believe it was a joke.

"But I'm not playing anything," she responded. She began to hyperventilate, just to drive in that she most likely had amnesia and was having a freak-out.

Her Dad turned to her brother and said, "James, call my secretary and cancel our entire schedule. As far as the school records say, you and Barbara are out sick due to a serious case of the flu." James ran off and her father turned to her and placed his hands on her shoulders and tried to calms her down, "Ok, Barbara, listen to me closely, I need you to calm down. Breathe, breathe, you're ok, you're safe. You are my daughter Barbara Gordon, that was your brother, James. Just stay calm, ask me anything you want and I'll do my best to explain it to you. Please, sweetie, it's going to be ok. Trust me. Trust me please."

She slowed down her breathing and nodded. "Ok," she said, "I will."

They rode the car in silence. Barbara stared out the window at the passing sights of Gotham. It seemed so much the same, the same sights and people walking around and minding their own business highlighted by dark alleyways and suspicious corners. The daytime smiles but a mask for the nighttime fears. It was still the same, at least, to Barbara's eyes. But the two men in the car with her spoke differently. One was her father Jim Gordon, the mayor of Gotham, not a police commissioner, yet somehow able to go out and drive a car to a meeting with a mysterious doctor he wouldn't tell her about without at least one bodyguard. Then there was her brother, James Gordon Jr. In her memories, a psychopathic serial killer with an unending disdain for his family. Yet here he was, browsing the internet on his phone acting like any other guy stuck in a car with his sister and father. Earlier he'd shown her something akin to concern when he and their father fell for her ruse of amnesia. She wasn't sure if she believed he really was legitimate about that or if it was all part of some grand deception of his. This did appear to be another world, after all. She let out a sigh in resignation of not knowing for certain (for the moment) and got out her phone, which they grabbed on the way out.

She pressed the power button and looked at the screen for a moment. Shit, she didn't know what her password was. James looked over at her from his phone. "Problem, Barbara?" he asked her.

 _As if you care._ "Yeah," she answered, "I want to get on my phone and see if anything on it can jog my memory, but I don't remember the password. You wouldn't happen to know, would you, James?"

He laughed, actually _laughed._ If the events of the morning hadn't been an indication she was in a parallel universe or something, then the sight of her brother letting out a laugh- a completely non-psychotic one at that- certainly was. "No, afraid not," he replied, "See, I'm the "pestering little brother" so you would never tell me. You _did_ give me a hint once, though."

Barbara perked up and smiled, "Really? What was it?"

"Bye Puffy, fl, arrow to the right, bg," he answered. Barbara deflated and grumbled. That was gibberish! James chuckled and handed her his phone. "Here," he said "I've got a few games on here if you want to distract yourself. Just don't call anyone or mess with my settings.

She smiled and took it from his hand calmly. "Thank you," she said. Man, she was good at this acting thing. Someone should get her an Oscar! Looking down at the phone, she exited the app James had been on- chess, apparently- and entered the browser, going straight for the news section. She needed information on the world she was in right now.

Let's see: 5 GCPD Officers Found Dead in River (Sadly, not an uncommon event in Gotham), Wayne Tech/Lex Corps Merger Rumored (What?), Gang Violence in Gotham Continues (Good to see everything's relatively normal), Known Mob Boss Oswald Cobblepot Murdered (Well, shit), New Warden Named for Arkham Asylum: Meet Edward Nygma! (Again, shit). Deciding to see what was going on in the powered-people side of things, she tapped the tab labeled "Superheroes" and began see what else she could find: Justice League Stops Crisis in Central City (Ok, League was still around, that was good), Superman Defeats Deadly Androids (At least Clark's still around), Green Lantern Dead! Superhero Community Mourns (He'll be back. Probably), Wonder Woman and Booster Gold Officially Confirm Engagement! Wedding Set For July! Barbara found herself staring at that last one the longest amount of time. _Really Diana? Booster Gold? I thought you had better standards than that! He better be this world's version of Steve Trevor or something or else you're getting an earful when I see you next! Maybe. You are still Wonder Woman, after all and I'll probably be a complete stranger._

"Barbara, are you ok?" James asked, "You're glaring at the screen."

"Am I?" she asked, "Sorry, I'm just trying to figure out which news article I need to read first."

James looked at her for the longest time, leaving their thoughts to be broken by their father. "You're reading the _news!?"_ Dad practically screamed, "Oh, it's worse than I thought. Don't worry, Sweetie, we're almost there! Just a couple more turns!"

Barbara let out a sigh and turned her attention back to the news and realized something very important. There wasn't a single article on Batman anywhere to be seen. Sure, Batman wasn't really a guy that tried to stay in the public eye, but people at least knew who he was. But, nothing at all. Growing worried, she quickly switched back to the regular news page and selected the article on the Wayne Tech/Lex Corps merger and skimmed it. Released financial transactions, closed doors meetings between the CEOs, but both of them insist they're merely looking into a research project using their resources. She scrolled down to the bottom which featured a picture of Bruce and Lex shaking hands with some older man beside Bruce.

 _Above: CEO of Wayne Tech, Bruce Wayne, and CEO of Lex Corps, Lex Luthor, are seen shaking hands. To their left is Bruce's Father, Thomas Wayne, from whom he inherited the company 23 years ago._

 _…_ _Bruce's Father, Thomas Wayne..._ That's what happened. A quick search revealed that yes, both Thomas and Martha Wayne were alive, confirming Barbara's suspicions. This was the thing that changed, the thing that diverged her world from this one: Bruce's parents were never shot in that alley. He never grew up with only a Butler to care for him, he never became an angry child seeking vengeance. He never thought for a moment about dressing up and starting a war on crime. He was never Batman. There was never a Batman, and that fact alone might very well be what has either saved Gotham from its madness, or damned it to wallow in it.

The car stopped, Barbara handed James his phone back, and looked at where they stopped. She smiled and let out a sigh. She knew this place, and she knew it well. She was going to see Dr. Leslie Thompkins. In her world Leslie was Batman's go-to medic and quite possibly the nicest person in Gotham. Barbara hoped that was the case in this world as well.

"I'm sorry Jim, really," Leslie told her father, "But I'm afraid I can't do anything and, as far as the tests I ran are concerned, nothing is wrong with Barbara!"

"That can't be right though, Ms. Thompkins," Barbara said, "I truthfully don't remember anything before this morning. I'm pretty sure the only reason I got to the bathroom was that's just simply what my body was used to doing when it woke up."

Leslie smiled and walked over to Barbara, lowering herself so that she could be level with the sitting girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. "I know, Barbara, and I believe you," she told her, "But I can't help you with this. I'm sorry." Barbara nodded and the three of them got up and began walking to the door. Leslie turned to speak to her father with one last piece of advice, "And Jim, I would suggest you take Barbara to a hospital for a more thorough check-up. I just run a small clinic, so-"

"No," her father answered, "No hospitals. You know how I feel about them, Leslie."

She sighed and shook her head, "I know, Jim. Just thought I'd try." With that they left and got back in the car.

It was silent for a while, no one really wanted to say a word. Barbara had really learned only two things from that trip: 1. her father was close friends with Leslie Thompkins, which that was something that hadn't happened in her world/time/whatever, 2. Jim Gordon hated hospitals. There was almost certainly a tragic backstory behind that and Leslie knew what it was. After trying (and failing) to figure out what that meant for a bit Barbara decided to break the silence a bit and asked, "So, could one of you, uh, give me a brief family history? Or something."

Jim looked at her using the rear mirror and coughed, "Oh, right, I did say I'd explain that to you, didn't I? Well, the brief version is that your mother's dead, died of breast cancer when you were around 8 and I've been raising you guys ever since. Um, when you were first born I had been a police officer working on the force, but quit the job after your mother died and I got fed up with the corruption in the force. I went from job to job for a bit and can honestly say that I wasn't the most…. watchful father on the planet and basically left you guys to raise yourselves. After a break-in at the house, though, that nearly resulted in you guys getting shot while I wasn't there I wizened up and started acting like the proper father I should. About three years ago, to your guys insistence I got the help of a couple wealthy patrons around Gotham and ran for mayor and recently won reelection. Thanks to the money from the job I've been able to send you guys to Gotham University, one of the best schools in the nation. You're currently studying to become a computer tech, and James was hoping to become a detective. Did I get everything right, James?"

He nodded, "Yeah, but if I could fill in a few dots I'd like to point out that we didn't "raise ourselves", _Barbara_ raised us _._ I was five at the time, and she was eight. As such, the responsibility fell onto her. Never stopped her from being a ditz, though."

Barbara felt like punching him. Not in the whole you're-an-evil-maniac-and-I-need-to-put-you-in-Arkham kinda way, but more like the stop-embarrassing-me-you-dweeby-little-brother way. But she didn't, because she'd probably kick his ass in and she had a cover to maintain. She also had to stop thinking about the psychopathic baby-killer as her little brother all over again. Deep down, Barbara wanted to believe this James really was a good guy, but she knew how this stuff worked and was almost certain she'd be proven wrong.

She got cut out of her musings when she noticed her father looking very much upset over the remark about how young she and James were when he started going off the deep-end. "Dad, stop it," James said, surprising Barbara, "That stuff's been water under the bridge for years now." He looked up and smiled, nodding in acknowledgment of the comment.

"Thanks, son," he replied, and while the rest of the drive was still silent, it was a happier silence.

Once they reached the house, Barbara said she'd head back on up to her room for some rest. The thing was annoyingly girly with Barbie Dolls, lots of pink, lots of makeup, and a few magazines filled with nothing but shirtless guys from front-to-back. She honestly didn't mind that last one as much as the others.

She fell on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers and got out her phone and stared at the locked screen for a bit. What was that clue she'd left James on what the password was? Bye Puffy, fl, arrow to the right, bg. What was that about? She was beginning to think that- beginning! That's what the second part meant, you put fl at the beginning. But, that would make Fluffy! Ok, first part down. But what about the first part? Bye, it meant something else, definitely. But what? Bi-laws, bicycle, bisexual. Wait, she was studying computer science so is it possible that it meant binary? Holy shit, her passcode was Fluffy in binary! Oh that clever girl. Glad to know she wasn't an idiot.

As she typed it in she realized that she never knew that a phone would take this many digits for its password. Regardless, it worked and she did a little arm pump in satisfaction and went into the contacts to see who was there:

Alysia

Herold

Carrie

Lil' Bro

Daddy

 _…_ _Boyfriend!?_

So, she had a boyfriend in this world, huh? But, neither her brother nor her father had mentioned him. Maybe they didn't know. Ooooooooh, a mystery! Curiosity getting the better of her, she selected the contact labeled "Boyfriend" and called.

She heard a click and a male voice answered, "Babs? Is that you? Where were you today? I didn't see you at school. The teacher said you and your brother called in sick, you two ok?" Barbara froze in place as she felt the blood drain from her body.

"Hey, uh, Babs, you there, or is this a butt dial?" Tim Drake asked.

She hated this day, she really did.

The clacking of heels resounded in the quiet halls of Arkham Asylum as Dr. Harleen Quinzel stormed down the hallway, very much furious. She'd been called away from an especially productive session with Mr. J, as the staff so fondly called him, to a meeting in the Warden's office that was "of the most urgent concern". As she marched down the hallway, both prisoners and staff alike moved out of her way. As any good resident of Arkham quickly learned, Ms. Qunizell had been at this institution longer than anyone else here. She'd managed to keep every prisoner, every sleazy guard, and every wide-eyed, over-confident psychiatrist that entered these hallways in check for over two decades and had managed to get the mob bosses to respect her authority. True, Arkham changed Wardens like the seasons, but everyone knew Harleen was in charge anyways, so it didn't matter.

Reaching her destination, she threw open the door and walked into the Warden's office as if she owned the place. She did. "Ok, Nygma you better give five good reasons for why I shouldn't string you up like a dead man!" she yelled.

The sound of someone sipping a coffee mug could be heard as she turned her attention from the surprised and offended form of Edward Nygma to the man sitting at the chair across from him. "I did tell you that she wouldn't like being called up, Eddy," the resident said, "What did I tell you was the one rule of Arkham Asylum?"

"That Dr. Quinzell's the one in charge?" Dr. Nygma answered, "I fail to see why I should allow myself to be intimidated by someone of lower rank than I."

She ignored the idiot and turned her attention to the man in the chair. "What is it, Todd? Me and Mr. J were having a very productive discussion," she said.

"On what?" Jason asked, "the intricacies of good stare? Harley, the man's a completely frozen and inept man with skin whiter than a ghost that hasn't talked in years. I highly doubt you were having a discussion of any kind."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, Jason just didn't get. Few people did, really. Dropping the subject, Mr. Todd got out of his chair and said, "Anyways, since you're here I figured you probably should know we'll be bringing in a new resident to Arkham later today."

"Who is it?" Harleen asked.

Jason smirked, "Selina Kyle. We caught her trying to rob Black Mask's treasury."

"What? Again?" Harleen asked, surprised, "Are you sure it's Selina, Jason? I distinctly remember having a conversation concerning the minute differences in each breed of housecat's claws not 18 hours ago. How does that girl get out of here so often?"

"I don't know," Jason replied, "We should just be glad Selina's the exception, not the rule. If Arkham were as easy to break out of as Selina made it look, then it wouldn't be the go-to prison for the mobs and gangs in this town. As it stands, the only prisoner to have ever escaped, period, is her, and we intend to keep it that way."

"I don't mean to interrupt," Nygma said, earning a glare from Harleen and an annoyed look from Jason, "but as Warden of this institution I do believe I should be privy to this discussion."

Harleen smirked at the man's comment and she could swear she heard Jason snort. Walking over to the _illustrious_ Warden's desk she leaned over and patted him on the cheek. "Aw, that's adorable, you think you're in charge around here. Listen, here's the deal Eddy: you stay out of my way and you might make it to being the first Warden of Arkham Asylum to actually last a year I 15 years. How about it?" she said. Eddy's face promptly turned a shade of red that was not normal for human skin to turn to on a regular basis.

"Get out of my office Quinzell, or I _will_ fire you," he growled at her, looking her in the eyes.

Harleen's eyes narrowed and all signs of her joking around were gone from her face as she stared down Nygma, who would be lying if he said that it didn't at least make him feel slightly uncomfortable. "Careful with what you say, Eddy," Harleen told him, voice going cold as ice, "you wouldn't want to end up like Good ol' Hugo, now would you?"

Not even allowing the new Warden to even reply, Harleen left the room and headed out and headed back to Cell-W to finish up her conversation with Mr. J, leaving the two men in the room. The room remained silent for a bit as Jason was sending out a couple texts and Edward was trying to discern if he was angry or afraid. "Who's Hugo?" he eventually asked Jason, who put his phone away.

"He was the last Warden in this institution before all the others started either quitting or getting themselves killed," Jason said, "Brilliant man, obsessed with playing mind games and experimenting on the patients, though. It took him five days to convince old Cobblepot that he was actually a sea lion for 3 whole months, just to prove he could! A true mad scientist if there ever was one."

"And, what happened to him?" Edward asked warily.

Jason smiled and shook his head, "Well, Harleen was getting tired of how he treated the prisoners, so one day she walked into his office, locked the door, and had a nice, long, five-hour discussion with him concerning his methods. Since then, he's been serving as Patient-94."

Edward had seen Patient-94, the day he was given a tour of the facilities when he became Warden a week ago. The man was a spluttering wreck, unable to form even the most basic of requests, and had to have basic care given 24-7. But most concerning though, was the man's complete terror at the sight of anything dog-related. He had no idea what Dr. Quinzel had done to the man, but if he had started out even the slightest bit as effective as Mr. Todd claimed, he might just take her advice and stay out of her way.


	3. Chapter 2

I don't own Batman or any other Gotham properties

 **Chapter 2**

 **When the Ground Slips out From Under You**

 ** _Barbara_**

Barbara Gordon cursed her stupidity. She should have _known_ something like this was going to happen! Yet she called her "boyfriend" with far more abandon than any vigilante trained by Batman should. At the very least she could have asked her father or something about this! Quick, think of something to say!

"Uh, Barbara? Is something wrong or are you just not there. Wait, please don't tell me it's Mr. Gordon on this thing! Shiiiii-" Tim said on the other end of the line.

"No, it's Barbara," she replied reluctantly. This was going to be interesting.

"Oh, phew," Tim said, letting out a sigh of relief, "So, uh, what's going on, Babs? You and your brother weren't in school today so I was getting worried." So Tim calls her "Babs" in this world? That was going to take some getting used to, In her original world it was usually only Dick that ever called her that and Tim simply called her Barbara.

In all seriousness though. Her boyfriend's Tim Drake? Sometimes, she loved the Barbara she replaced, sometimes it seemed like current-Barbara had to question some of the decisions the other Barbara made. This _may_ be one of them. Tim was a nice guy and all, just- far too intense at times. Well, here's hoping he isn't. They're both going to need it for what Barbara's about to say next.

"Yeah, about that," Barbara said, careful not to use Tim's name (it would hurt her credibility as an amnesiac), "We kinda had to go to the doctor's office today."

"Really? Why? Your regular check-up's not until about 3 weeks from now, isn't it?" Tim asked.

Barbara sighed and braced herself. "Listen, I don't know how to tell you this so I'll just come out and say it," she said, "I woke up with amnesia today. Sorry."

They were both silent for a bit. No doubt Tim was trying to process what Barbara just said, and she needed a moment to think about what to say next. She wondered how he must have been feeling though. Hearing from your girlfriend that they have amnesia just after a day's worth of worrying where they were? Not something that could be considered a pleasant experience. She felt bad for him.

"This isn't a joke, is it?" Tim eventually asked after a decent minute and a half or so of silence.

"No," she responded, "I just woke up today with no memories. We have no reason why."

"And you can't remember anything?" Tim asked.

"I remember my mad computer skills," she responded, trying to sound helpful, "Well, I think I do. Haven't really checked yet."

"Damn," Tim said, "That, uh, that sucks. Wait, if you don't remember anything, how'd you unlock your phone. I _know_ you don't use the fingerprint scanner."

"I apparently gave my brother a hint a while back. He told me and I figured the hint out," Barbara replied while sitting up on the bed and leaning against the wall.

"Impressive," Tim replied.

"So, would you mind telling me your name?" she asked, "My phone just labeled you "boyfriend", sooooo…"

"Right," he said, "Well, I'm Tim Drake. Six years your junior and your lab partner in Physics. I got into Gotham University with a full scholarship, and you got in on your father's salary. Due to the school time you missed on account of raising your brother and you, we're 7 years apart but never really cared about that in our relationship. I'm, what, 5'2" and-"

"Ok," she said, "I get it. Listen, I know this is a bit of a shock so if you'd like some time to think we can talk later. I mean, this call was probably a stupid idea anyways and- and sorry about this, I guess. I'm still confused myself and I shouldn't have been so thoughtless. We can talk later, ok, Tim?"

"Ok." She heard a beep as the line was disconnected. Ending the call she put her phone down and laid back down on the bed. Today had been a long day for her and she needed to get some rest. So she put her head on the pillow and went out like a lightbulb.

 ** _Bruce_**

Bruce entered his office just as he did every morning. Through the window.

Ok, so that's a lie. He didn't come in through the window, he came in through the door just like any normal person and took the elevator up. Flanked on one side by his totally-gorgeous-and-completely-out-of-his-league wife, Tallia, and on the other side, his secretary, a nice girl named Allison.

"So Allison, what's on the schedule today?" he asked as the elevator door opened to the waiting room in front of his office.

"Well, you have a meeting with Mr. Fox scheduled for an hour from now and that should last until noon," she said, "Then it's lunch time, and after that you'll spend the next six hours meeting with Mr. Luthor and members of his board, as well as members of your own, to discuss plans for the joint project we're working with them on."

"Wow, that's it?" Bruce perked up. That was only two things, and only until six? He might actually be able to have dinner with his family for once. "That doesn't sound too bad. We may even be done before six for once!"

Allison walked over to her desk and sat down, turning her computer on. She let out a sigh and shook her head dejectedly. "Key word "should", Mr. Wayne. It'll probably last longer, especially once you've seen the list of things Lex wants to work on that was emailed to you earlier this morning. I skimmed it before come to work today and I pity you Mr. Wayne, I really do." He winced at the prospect of spending over six hours in a meeting room with a whole bunch of stuffy-faced lawyers and board members. He hoped they got some water breaks or something during the meeting so he could breathe a little from all the legal babble.

He opened the large wooden doors to his office and held them open for Talia. She walked in without saying anything and he quickly walked in behind her, heading over to his desk. As soon as he reached it he set down the file he'd been carrying down on top of the giant pile covering his desk and sat down. "So, what'll you be working on today, Talia?" he asked as he booted his computer up

"I'll be talking with a few contractors today. Dr. Fries needs some new chemicals to test make a new batch of his Biological Stasis Formula that he thinks will work better than the…. disastrous attempts in the last test," she told him. Bruce cringed, remembering Talia's report on what happened to the mice. It hadn't exactly been what could be considered "pretty". What made it worse though, was the fact she apparently felt the need to inform him as they were having their dinner break. He loved his wife, but she could be a tad overenthusiastic about the Fries Project. _Especially_ while they were eating. Bruce had never felt so sorry for a group of mice.

The basis of the formula was actually quite simple. It was intended to be a substance that could temporarily "freeze up" mortal wounds, so-to-speak, and keep the damage from getting worse. It would be applied as soon as medical professionals could arrive and last long enough to get the patient to the ER for surgery. Bruce had at first been skeptical about the project, but some pestering from Talia and the fact it was the brainchild of Victor Fries and his wife Nora Fries, both of whom had won numerous awards in the medical field for their work, sold him on the idea. So, Wayne Enterprises had given them the funding, the lab, and the assistants to get it all done. Of course, if they could just deal with that little freezing from the inside out problem it would be wonderful.

"Also-" Talia said warily.

Bruce looked up from the screen, "What is it, Talia? I know that look, and it's not a good one."

Taking a deep breath she exhaled and said, "Last night we had a break-in in the tech department. It's what Lucius is probably going to want to talk to you about."

Bruce straightened in his chair and tensed. They'd had a break-in? And right when they were negotiating with that whole joint-collaboration with Lex Corps? Shit.

"What was taken?" he asked.

"Several components of the compact exo-skeleton prototype, a couple miscellaneous small devices, the Data Knight Helm, and a motorcycle," she explained, "Security guards attempted to apprehend the suspect, but they escaped on a motorcycle."

"How'd they carry all that out on a _motorcycle?"_ Bruce asked.

"Simple, they wore it," Talia explained, "They even brought a nice little belt to put the smaller stuff in."

Bruce let out a groan and brought his hands up to his face. This was not happening. They did not just have several thousand dollars worth of equipment stolen from them at the most inopportune time. The military contractors would have their heads if Lex didn't first. "This is just greeeeeat," he moaned, "Some of that tech was on loan from Lex Corps. This is going to make things more complicated." Bruce laid one arm down on the table and pinched his nose with the other. "Do we have any idea who this crook might be?"

Talia sighed and nodded her head. "We do have _one_ thing. When asked to identify themselves by the night watch, the perpetrator declared, "I am Vengeance. I am the Night. I am Batman." It should be noted the dramaticness of this statement was accentuated by the voice modulator function on the Data Knight Helm."

Bruce stared at her incredulously. Was she being serious right now? Of course she was, Talia never joked about anything! "Talia, that is the single stupidest thing I've ever heard. Who says that?" he said.

"Them, apparently," Talia said. "Regardless, I need to get down to the lab. I'll be going down to tech to discuss our options with them and the police after I meet with the contractors so we _both_ have a busy day ahead of us. So, darling, please make sure Lex doesn't find out about this. It would be disastrous for the deal if they did." Bruce nodded and Talia exited the room with the same calm and composure that she walked in with. At least no one could tell something was wrong just by looking at her, as opposed to the totally-readable Bruce Wayne. Taking a deep breath in to calm himself down, he turned his attention towards the Lex Corps meeting email, just having to wait for Lucius to arrive.

 ** _Barbara_**

When Barabara wakes up she's not quite sure what to do. Her entire life had just been completely overwritten in a day and she had no idea what to do now. Should she continue living this Barbara's life as if she just simply got amnesia? Forgetting about her old life and moving ahead with this one. Perhaps she should try to get an internship at Star Labs, Wayne Tech, or Lex Corps and find out how to get home; provided this was a parallel universe and not simply time rewritten. Maybe she should put on a Bat suit and take up the role of Batwoman or something. But did she need to? From what she could tell this Gotham may actually be nicer than hers with lower crime rates. After all, her dad's in charge and that should count for something. Then again, all she's really seen is the Mayor's house and Leslie's clinic. How about the names that were on her phone? Should she try calling them like she did Tim? Did her dad even know about her "boyfriend"? Did James? She hoped to heaven he didn't. It didn't matter what world/timeline she was in. Ever since she found out James was a madman she knew she'd never trust him again. This was no exception.

And what about the Barbara she replaced? The one who had lived a full and meaningful life that she had simply taken away. Was she alive in some capacity? Dead? Gone? Had she overwritten the girl's soul or did it simply get boosted into the afterlife prematurely? Did this world even have an afterlife? She knew her world did. She'd gone there on a team-up with Diana and Constantine once during her tenure as Oracle. She even met God on that whole mess. It was….. surreal, to say the least.

Speaking of Oracle, Barbara looked down at her legs. She could walk again. It was something she hadn't really thought about since she first arrived here, but, she could. What was weird was how natural it felt to her. It didn't event take her a second worth of learning to be able to walk again. It just sort of happened. Maybe it had to do with the body she was in?

She heard a knock on the door and shot up. "Yes?" she practically yelled out.

"Barbara?" her father's voice said, "Sorry if I woke you, but dinner's ready."

"Huh? Oh, ok," she said, "Uh, dad-"

"Hm?" he asked.

"Were you aware that I had a boyfriend?" she asked.

He paused for a minute and looked at her with an unreadable expression before asking, "And what makes you ask that you do?"

"Well, I figured out what the passcode on my phone is," she said, "And there was a contact labeled "boyfriend"."

"I see," he said, not showing any emotion, "And did you call this "boyfriend"?"

"Yes."

"What's his name?"

"Tim Drake," she answered. Sorry, Tim, but it was too late to back-out now.

Her father let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the doorframe for support. "Oh, thank God! I was afraid it'd be someone I didn't like! Well, that's good then. Tim's a good kid," he looked at her uncertain expression and continued, "You told him about the amnesia, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did," Barbara replied, "I'm sorry! I know I probably shouldn't have called him, but my curiosity got the better of me and-"

Jim held up a hand and smiled, "It's fine. I've met Tim a couple times. I trust him to keep a secret, or at least only tell people that can be trusted."

"Anyways, dinner!" Barbara changed the subject to. Getting off the bed, she walked out of the room and followed her dad down the staircase.

"Right, James is waiting downstairs. He made your favorite tonight," he said, "Thought it'd might jog your memory."

"Oh? And what's my favorite?" she asked.

"Peanut Butter and Jelly Sandwich," he answered.

Yep, that was definitely her favorite. Nothing like a good ol' PBJ to get one's mind off the impending social conflicts caused by pretending to have amnesia to cover up the fact that you have memories of a completely different version of events. She really hoped this would get less complicated. Probably wouldn't, but a girl could dream.

They reached the bottom of the stairs to the dining area. It was a simple kitchen area with a table at the middle. There was a room off to the side that was bigger, and had a much larger table built more for entertaining guests at the residence than as a formal family eating area- which the table in the table in the middle of the kitchen appeared to serve the purpose for, at least for them. James was walking around the table, setting silverware. Who used silverware for eating PB&J? Maybe it was a bit of an OCD thing he had in this world. Always making sure there was silverware on the table.

"Good evening, sister," James said, "I hope you slept well, today's been a mess for us all, but definitely you most of all. I hope the amnesia hasn't changed your taste in food. Otherwise my 15 minutes of slaving over a lukewarm butter knife have all been for naught." Psychopath, Barbara. Remember, your brother is an incredibly evil, cruel psychopath who probably eats puppies and kittens without even bothering to use a knife and fork. Not a cute but annoying younger brother who loves you. He's like the Joker, only less clown-like and more Jack the Ripper-y. He has the obsession with a figure cloaked in a bat costume down to a T, though.

"James, did you know Barbara apparently has er- I guess maybe, _had_ , a boyfriend?" their father asked as they sat down. Barbara noticed a bag of potato chips at the center of the table and opened it, pouring some of the contents onto her plate.

"I'm afraid I didn't know. Who is it?" James replied as Barbara handed him the chips.

"Tim Drake, that nice guy that's about half a decade younger than Barbara that's part of her study group," Dad answered, "You know which one I mean. You two get along well enough."

"Oh yeah, I do. Mm, if you don't mind me asking, how exactly did you find out?" James replied, "Did Barbara gain her memory back after a nice nap?"

"No, I just figured out what the passcode to my phone was," she said, taking a bite of the (hopefully not poisoned) sandwich. How he never figured out the code though, she had no idea. James was a veritable genius capable of fooling her and her father for years into thinking he was just a "normal guy". He should have been smart enough to figure the passcode out. Or maybe he did and hadn't told her. Note: James may know how to access your phone. Do not put compromising information on there and purge anything that you find in the data that might be sensitive.

"Wait, you mean it wasn't complete bullshit?" he asked, "So, what does that whole Bye Puffy, fl, arrow to the right, fg stuff mean, then? When you gave me the note I thought you were just trolling me."

She pointed to her full mouth and shrugged. Huffing at her insistence to not tell her, James returned to his meal and they proceeded to eat in awkward silence. It was clear they were used to having conversations, and she could tell James and Dad felt compelled to do so, but what do you talk about on the day that one of your family members gets amnesia? The weather? Sports? No, best to remain silent and avoid any reminders of the current issue. At least until the morning, when they'd have to discuss the school situation. Maybe Tim could help with that? So dinner passed without incident and without talking. Until at last the meal was eaten and Dad began taking up the plates.

"Usually you do this Barbara, but I got it tonight," he mentioned as Barbara stood up.

Standing up and pushing his chair in James smirked and chuckled to himself. "Well, I better get the Hit Squad ready," he said.

"Hit Squad? For what?" Barbara asked, tensing up.

James answered, "For your boyfriend, of course. Can't have anyone trying to date my sister, now can I?"

Time froze to a still and Barbara snapped right then and there. All the anxiety she'd felt all day, all the confusion and the terrifying realizations, and all the paranoia of spending a day around _him_ converged at those words. The ones spoken by her brother, a mass murderer, threatening to kill Tim Drake. She knew it was a joke. It had to be. At the very least James was trying to maintain the cover of a normal brother in this world. But it didn't matter because it was _James._ The madman who sold her out to the Joker, who threatened her friends, who took their mother hostage, who framed her for murder, who nearly killed her how many times? No, that was the last straw. The _last_. _Damn. Straw._

Her vigilante reflexes acted in a nanosecond. _No one_ threatened a fellow Bat like that. Parallel universe or not. She reached for the fork still on the table next to her and lunged at him, aiming for the eye. He was slow, surprised by the act and caught unprepared, but that didn't mean he was without a survival instinct. James dodged to the side just in time and the fork ended imbedded on the wooden countertop behind him. Letting go she turned towards him and determined the best way to deliver a blow to him was with a round house kick. It would have more power behind it as it would go with the flow of her turning and be a lot harder for him to dodge with how fast her kicks were. He didn't stand a chance.

Before she could act, however, her father grabbed her by the shoulders and screamed, "Barbara! What the _hell_ are you doing!?" She stopped and snapped out of combat mode. Dammit, this wasn't good. Not good at all. Had they noticed? That she acted on instinct and reflex? That she knew how to fight when she shouldn't? She hoped to _God_ that they didn't. Hopefully their Barbara took karate lessons or some equivalent she could use that to explain it away. Then she could…. could…

James looked at her, wide-eye and scared as all hell at what just happened. It reminded her of when they were kids, and he'd curl up next to her in bed because the bad dreams and boogeymen wouldn't go away. And she would hold him tight and tell him she could fight off all the monsters in the dark. That she would keep him and mom and dad safe and no creep in mask would hurt them. Except he was the monster, wasn't he? He had to be. _Her_ brother in _her_ Gotham had been one, but as hard and as painful as it was to admit, this wasn't _her_ Gotham. It was somewhere else, somewhere different and James may just be her annoying younger brother. But right now, he was just scared. How, could she have done that?

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what-" she said, looking for the words but finding nothing, "I'll just go back to bed." Her father's grip loosened and she fled the room and ran all the way up the stairs, not taking a single look back. The last thing the two men at the bottom of the staircase heard of her that day was the sound of her bedroom door locking.

 ** _Bruce_**

When all was said and done and Bruce had returned home to find everyone was already asleep, as usual. He had gotten a midnight snack and turned on the security footage from the night before. And for some reason he kept watching it over and over again. There was something about it, something that drew him towards the footage. Not the missing footage of the actual theft, not the guards' (futile) attempts to tazer, trank, or shoot the perp, or even the fact this was one of Wayne Tech's biggest failures. No, it was the thief that drew him to watch the video several times. They whispered to him, for lack of a better word, and said something that seemed so familiar, yet nothing he recognized. Bruce _knew_ them from somewhere and he could feel it. But where? When? He didn't know.

 _"_ _Hands in the air! Who are you!?" the security guard yelled, pointing his gun at the intruder._

 _They activated the helmets' red visor and looked up at the guard._

 _"_ _I am Vengeance. I am the Night. I am Batman." Then the bullets started flying and the thief started punching._

And a swarm of bats flew by the window as lightning shook the skies. Bruce closed the laptop and went to bed.

 ** _Author's Notes:_** **** ** _I had to try my hardest not to make James sound British, because, frankly speaking, that would be overkill and completely out of place in Gotham. Anyways, hope you like the chapter, please review._**


	4. Chapter 3

I don't own Batman or any other Gotham properties.

 **Chapter 3**

 **Can be Difficult at Best**

Tim Drake didn't get a lot of sleep that night. How could he, really? Barbara had just told him that she'd lost her memory. _Barbara._ Of all the people in the world who could have possibly gotten amnesia it just had to be Barbara Gordon. He gritted his teeth and got up, walking toward his closet door and throwing it open. Taking out all the clothes and throwing them on the floor he pulled out the trunk from a hidden compartment he put into the back of the wall. Positioning it in front of him, Tim opened it up and looked inside. Until they had figured out which one of them would put on the suit and become the vigilante they'd chosen to dub "Batman" they thought it best to keep the different parts of the suit separate. Tim had gotten all the miscellaneous gadgets- batarangs, freeze grenades, compact welders, and the boots- and the rest of the suit had been given to Barbara for safe keeping. Could he still trust her not to tell her father about their plans? Probably not.

Now that she had amnesia, Barbara would be relying on her father more and more for support in her life. A support which meant that she'd probably tell him about her "boyfriend's" illicit activities of stealing high-tech combat implements for the sole purpose of doing something about all the crime in Gotham City. Something which Jim Gordon had no small part in. He'd been in Black Mask's pocket for years, ever since the death of the previous mayor, some guy named Jered Hymen, had "unexpectedly resigned". No doubt by threatening Jim's kids and quite possibly also paying for their education, Mask was able to get Gordon to introduce any legislature that could help his mob. Tim couldn't say he hated the man, not while knowing he was just doing this to take care of his family, but that didn't mean Tim could trust him.

Tim needed that suit. He had to find some way to sneak into Barbara's room, snatch the suit from its hiding spot, and escape all before Barbara found it herself. But how? There were the study group sessions with their regular group: Herold, and Carrie and- oh, shit, how were _they_ going to react. Then there was Alyssia. Oh God, how was _Alyssia_ going to react? She and Barbara had been friends since elementary school and now….. well, now it was all gone. Every last moment she had spent with all of them. The smiles and laughs over Herold's stupid jokes, the study sessions where he and Carrie were the only ones actually getting any studying done, the nights spent plotting the downfall of the criminal underworld, and every other moment Barbara cherished and held dear.

One of his best friends had just lost her memory, and all he could think of was how this affected some stupid plot to beat some thugs up. Tim knew it was just a coping mechanism, but that didn't mean he should just act like it was an inconvenience. Breathing in and walking over to the picture on his side table, Tim picked it up and looked down at it. It was a simple picture, of him and his parents at a circus picture booth. Smiling faces and happier times, before someone broke into their home and shot both his parents down in cold blood. Tim hadn't been home at the time, he was waiting for them to pick him up from school, but that didn't mean it felt any less painful thinking about. And since then, all he could think of was how to get back at the people who did it. The criminals, thugs, and crime lords that plagued the streets of Gotham with no one doing anything to stop them. He was going to save this city from itself, no matter what.

He'd told this to many people before and they'd all said the same thing, "You're just one person, Tim, and one person can't change anything." But he kept talking and he kept thinking about how he had to do something, at the very least more than what the law enforcement in this godforsaken city was doing. But every time he tried to get some help, he'd gotten the same reaction. Then on one particularly frustrating day he'd told Barbara, fully expecting to get the exact same reaction he got out of everyone else. After all, she was the mayor's daughter and it didn't take a genius to realize that her entire life relied upon the criminal underworld paying her father off. But no, she'd simply taken a moment to think about it and asked, "How can I help?" He probably would have kissed her right then and there if he hadn't been in such shock.

He smiled back fondly on that memory. A memory now lost to one of the two people who had lived it. Putting the picture down he closed his eyes, hoping that if he could sleep on it, he'd be able to process the day's events better. He doubted he would be able to though, but at least he could pretend to be asleep.

 _The Next Morning_

To be honest, Tim had not expected to see Barbara at school the next day. She was talking with her brother about a sheet of paper they were both speaking about in hushed tones. For just a moment it made him hope that perhaps the last night had been nothing but a bad dream. But then he noticed how tense Barbara was around James and he realized that it hadn't been a dream after all. Barbara was never uncomfortable around James, not even when the two were having a fight. Feeling compelled to step in he approached the siblings and very casually said, "Morning Barbara, morning James!"

James jumped slightly but Barbara actually eased up upon hearing his voice. "Tim!" James said, "Great, uh, Barbara seems to be a bit confused on some, uh, homework problems! Think you could help her? I need to go see Professor Isley on some stuff for Chemistry stuff and-"

Time held up a hand and chuckled. "Don't worry, I got it. Babs'll be safe with me," he reassured James.

"Ah, good. Also, I like you, Tim, so fair warning," James said, leaning in, "If you so much as _think_ about sneaking off to make out with my sister-"

"I will personally give you the knife," Tim cut him off with.

James smirked and patted him on the shoulder. "Good man," he said, before disappearing into the crowd of students. Tim and Barbara stood there awkwardly for a moment before Barbara moved to sit down on a nearby bench and motioned for Tim to join her. As he sat down, Barbara angled the paper she and James were looking at. It was her schedule, apparently.

"I've figured it out," Barbara said, "So I know where I need to go, but…"

"But you're still confused," he said. Barbara nodded and lowered the paper to her lap.

"Are there uh, any friends here I should know about?" she asked.

Tim nodded, "Yeah, you got two, Herold and Carrie. They're part of our study group. There's also Alyssia, who's been your best friend since Elementary School, but since you had to take care of your brother she finished her education before you. Due to you having to drop out of school after high school to take care of your brother you never really went to college and couldn't afford it anyways, even after your dad cleaned up his act **.** During that time, you went around and got odd jobs like doing people's laundry and walking their dogs in order to make ends meet. Then one day, some guys showed up on your doorstep one day offering to help your dad run for mayor. Not only did they pay for his campaign, but also for your education."

"And who were they?" she asked, "My dad mentioned some "wealthy patrons", but I have no idea who they are."

Tim hesitated. "We should get to class, come on," he said. Pausing, he added, "I should also probably warn you that you and Carrie share a class. She'll be the one with the red hair, so head's up."

She nodded and got up as he walked her to their next class. Thankfully, Barbara was able to keep up pretty well in class, answering most of the questions as usual and taking very thorough notes. He wouldn't know how she held up until they had lunch together at 1, since they only shared their first class that day. Thankfully, he shared his class before lunch with Herold, so he was able to break the news to him before they met up for lunch. He… was calm, at least. In all honesty, he was surprised that Herold didn't freak out right then and there. He just simply nodded and took his seat as the teacher walked in, and Tim did the same. Afterwards, he and Herold walked to lunch to meet up with Barbara and Carrie. Spotting them at their usual table, Tim waved at them and the two girls did so, albeit nervously.

Deciding that it would be best to not take too long, Tim and Herold took the smallest line available (mystery meat line), grabbed some food, and headed over to the table. Setting his plate down, Tim was grateful they sat at a corner table. There were some things you just did not want a regular passerby to hear.

The first one to speak was Barbara, "Hello, I guess you're Herold?" Their friend nodded.

"Yeah," he said, reaching out, as if meeting her for the first time, "Uh, how are you today, Barbara?"

Shaking it, she replied, "Confused, but holding it together. I had my freak out yesterday, so we're good." After that, it was simply the four of them sitting there, eating their lunch in an awkward silence.

Naturally, Carrie was the one to break the silence. "So, are we gonna talk about the elephant in the room or just gonna sit here in awkward silence?"

"Yeah," Herold said, "Do we need to reintroduce ourselves to you or what?"

"I think my dad mentioned we were a study group as well?" Barbara said, "How about we have a session to night? I need to see what I remember from my classes anyways, so maybe we could have one tonight if that's not too much trouble."

"Great!" Carrie said, pounding the table, "We'll do that!

Tim smiled to himself. It was good to know that not everything would be Earth shattering. Also, it would be the perfect opportunity to get the suit out of Barbara's closet. He'd just need to be a little creative about it.

 _ **Author's Notes:**_ _ **This Chapter took longer than it should. Partly because I really want to do the vigilante stuff and all this set-up is killing me. But it's been a couple months and I don't want this thing sitting idle. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this. I didn't, but oh well. Next time, the study session. Tell me what you think, good or bad. Callian31 signing out!**_


	5. Chapter 4

I don't own Batman

 **Chapter 4**

 **And Heartbreaking at Worst**

 ** _Barbara_**

The building was a standard apartment with a white door and brick façade. Perfectly inconspicuous, and perfectly terrifying. "Well?" James asked, "You going to knock or would you rather I do it?"

"No," Barbara said, "I'll do it." Taking in a deep breath one more time, she walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. Footsteps sounded and the door opened, revealing a young, white girl with orange dyed hair and a ponytail.

"Barbara! Hey! How're you doing?" the girl greeted excitedly, shaking my hand, "Haven't seen you around that much lately. How's you brother doing? Still available?"

James coughed and waved, "Hey, Eryn. Is Alyssia home?"

Eryn nodded, "Yeah, you want me to call her down for you?"

"Yes!" Barbara said desperately before going back into a slight metaphorical shell, "I mean, yes, please do. It's really important."

Eryn looked in between the two of them, taking note of their somber expressions before slowly nodding. "Got it. Give me a moment, I think she's on the phone," Eryn said before leaving up the stairs. They entered the apartment and Barbara had to hold a gasp in. She knew it from the outside of the building, but still, it shook her to see that Alyssia was living in the exact same apartment that they shared back in the original timeline. She hoped that here at least she'd find some common thread between her old life and this one. Tim was great and all, but he wasn't the Tim she knew. Alyssia's life was affected very little by the vigilante scene, so it stood to reason she would remain relatively the same. Though, how exactly Bruce's parents not being dead would lead to her meeting Alyssia in Elementary School instead of in their 20s would probably be one of the biggest mysteries of this whole situation.

As they sat down on the couches Barbara heard the distinct foot-steps coming down. "Babs? You wanted to talk to me?" Alyssia asked, followed by Eryn.

"Yeah, uh," Barbara said, glancing at Eryn. She was certain the girl was a trustworthy person and all, but this was still a bit personal. Thankfully, Eryn seemed to get the memo and excused herself.

"Alyssia, we got some bad news," Barbara said as Alyssia sat down next to her.

"I kinda figured from that out when Eryn said you were considerably more somber than perky. What's wrong?" she asked Barbara.

"Well, yesterday, when I woke up I stated my morning routine as I always do- I think," Barbara said, biting her lip.

"You think? What do you mean by-" Alyssia gasped and brought her hand up to her mouth, "Oh my God, you have amnesia don't you?"

 _That_ caught Barbara by surprise. How did Alyssia figure it out? The two of them must have been really close in this timeline. Taking it in for a second, Barbara nodded slowly, "Yeah, that's it exactly." Alyssia hugged her, right then and right there. Barbara reciprocated and when Alyssia began to cry, so did Barbara. Just a few tears though, she couldn't let them all out, but she could let out some. Tears for a lost life. Not the one anyone here knew of. It was the one where she Dick Grayson danced on the rooftops, the one where she found a scary uncle in Bruce Wayne, it was the life where a mad clown shot her spine out with a gun and the life where Jason Todd died and came back. It was the life where her mom and dad were both alive, and the world where James was a psycho. A life where she had bled and laughed and done so much more. Where she could've done so much more. She remembered a bunch of little birds landing in the nest and flying off. She remembered the clack of a keyboard beneath her fingers and she remembered the wheelchair that dominated her life. Everything that had made that life _hers_ was gone. What was the last thing she remembered about her life anyways?

She remembered a gruff pout from Damian as Barbara babysat him while he was injured. Stephanie probably made a smart quip, Tim would've just drank his coffee and grunted, Dick would've chuckled, and Bruce, Bruce…

Bruce wouldn't have done anything. Bruce Wayne had died.

The Joker had killed Batman and Barbara wanted to scream as she remembered the tape that psycho had sent them. But she couldn't, not here at least.

 ** _Jason_**

It was the screaming that had caught Jason's attention. It wasn't the typical "Oh please don't kill me!" scream common among some of the less… cooperative individuals that Black Mask brought back to the hideout. It was more of a "Stop what you're doing, crazy man!" kind of screaming, so Jason figured something was up.

There was also the sound of James Gordon screaming profanities, but that was nothing new. Opening the door to the "lobby" of Black Mask's HQ, Jason was greeted with the oh-so pleasant sight of Gotham's resident corrupt mayor being held back by four random goons. "Ok, I will admit that's impressive," muttered Jason in admiration of the man's apparent strength.

"Todd!" Gordon yelled, noticing the mobster's second-in-command, "What the _hell_ did you do to my daughter!?"

"Nothing, Jimmy-Boy, that I know of," he said, "Why? She trip or something?"

"No," Gordon said, calming down enough that the guards felt safe letting go of him, "She has _amnesia._ No explanation, no reason. She just wakes up and has no memory of her entire life. Forgive me if that seems suspicious."

"I see," Jason said, "Well, I am sorry to tell you that the Mask organization has had no dealings in your daughter's memory deficiencies. Sorry to disappoint."

Gordon glared at him. "And how do I know you're not lying?" Gordon said.

"James, we're drug dealers and smugglers. Magically granting little girls memory loss is not a business we deal in. Not enough profit, you understand," Jason said, walking up to Gordon and draping an arm around him, "Besides, you've been a nice corrupt politician. What reason would we have to punish you when you've been nothing but helpful. Now go on home and spend time with your family, I'm sure they need your support now." Reaching the entrance, Jason graciously opened the door for Jim.

"I have an eye on you, Todd," Gordon said, "and on your boss."

Jason feigned shuddering and clutched his heart. "I would hope not," Jason said, "Severed eyeballs give me the heebie jeebies." A lie, he'd gouged one out earlier today.

Gordon didn't reply, merely left without taking his gaze off of Jason. Jason gently closed the door behind him and sighed in disappointment. "Shame about Barbara," Black Mask said, walking in, "Heard you were trying to woo her."

Jason merely shrugged, "Just means I gotta start over again. Maybe she'll be more receptive now that she has no idea who I am."

"Anyway, how'd the meeting with the new Warden go?" Black Mask asked.

"Well enough, I suppose," Jason said, "I doubt he'll last long, though. Seems to not understand that it's a bad idea to piss off Quinzel. I give him a month."

"I wouldn't discount him so quickly, Jason," Mask said as they began walking towards his office, "The man was suggested by one of the more reclusive members of the Circle." Ah, yes, the Gotham Circle, the shadowy coalition of some of the biggest names in the Gotham Underground, divvying up Gotham like pieces of a pie. Jason had never been personally invited to meetings, but he'd been asked to help Mask perform a few favors for the other groups involved and he had a picture perfect understanding of where the Mob was and was not allowed to stick its hands. He'd had to kill a few idiots who'd thought it was a good idea to deal near Wayne Tower, for example. That was strictly League of Shadows territory (the only of member he knew about aside from Arkham). He had a feeling they didn't have anything to do with Edward Nygma, though.

"Regardless," Jason said, as they entered the sound-proof office, "as near as I can tell the man's an idiot with an ego too big for his new job. Anyways, what'd you want to talk about?"

Black Mask sat down on his desk and put his hands together, "I was finally able to get some overseas contacts established thanks to some help from Talia. We've got a shipment coming in at the docks in a week. I want you to cover security and all the arrangements."

Jason couldn't help it, he smiled. _Big._ "I'll get right on it, Boss," he said.

 ** _Barbara_**

Alyssia had agreed to come to the study session with Barbara and act as her emotional support. Despite the weird world-swap, Barbara felt just as comfortable around her as she had in the original world. That was something she would need in the coming days, someone to lean on. "Hey, James, when's dad gonna be home?" she asked, looking up at the clock: 7:00 pm. She wasn't quite sure how long the mayor of Gotham worked, but the study session was starting to swing into full gear so she was just curious more than anything else. Besides, if she did go the vigilante route it would be good to know his work hours so she wouldn't get caught.

"Well, he's usually back by eight," James said, "Though he did text me that he had an unexpected meeting pop up so he might be a bit late." With that, her brother went back to his own homework, tuning out Barbara's group.

Readjusting herself to her seat and turning back to the group settled around the living room coffee table, Barbara said, "Ok, so on to our African History course for a second. Carrie, could you explain who this "Nzinga of Ndongo" lady is?"

"Oh yeah, her!" Carrie said, "You'll like her. See, she was a warrior queen back during the 1600s or so and fought the Portugese in order to regain control of her Kingdom. And she _won."_

"Well, while you girls are doing that, I need to go use the bathroom," Tim said, "Upstairs, right, James?"

"Yeah," he answered, "You've used it before, Tim. How many times must I remind you?"

Tim chuckled, "Every time I go." Paying no heed to the comment, Barbara returned to Carrie's (quite thorough) lecture on Queen Nzinga which was occasionally punctuated with comments such as, "She had _how many_ men in her harem!?" from Alyssia. Eventually, Barbara noticed Tim hadn't come back yet and narrowed her eyes.

"Hey, Carrie, hate to cut you off especially since I asked but," Barbara said, "does Tim usually take this long in the bathroom?"

"Uh, no, not really," Carrie said, "Weird."

Barbara put her book down and got up, "I'm going to go check up on him real quick. We can pick up when I get back down."

Carrie shrugged, "Alright, just don't go smooching him, ok?" Nodding absently, Barbara began to ascend the stairs to the upper floor of the house and walked over to the hallway the bathroom was on. As she walked down the hallway though, it became quite clear he wasn't in the bathroom, she did hear rummaging sounds in her bedroom though. Quietly opening the door she saw Tim going through some truck that appeared to have been pulled out of her closet.

Barbara made sure to growl in order to get Tim's attention. "Timothy Drake, you have five minutes to explain what the hell you're doing in my bedroom or I shall kick your ass and throw you out the window," she threatened.

Freezing, Tim slowly turned around and gave a weak smile. "Oh, hey, Barbara I kinda, uh-" he said, "It's totally not what you think!"

Barbara glanced at the open trunk. It appeared to contain a black suit with black exterior attachments (an exoskeleton, perhaps?) and had a black helmet with two antennas on it. Looking back at Tim she replied, "Really? Because it looks like you're stealing an advanced piece of military technology out of a trunk in my bedroom."

"Ok, then it's exactly what it looks like," Tim replied.

"Yeah, why do I have that in my room?" she asked.

Tim gulped and replied, "We kinda stole it from Wayne Tech and Lex Corps. Well, you did. I kinda screamed in your ear the entire time."

Barbara stood there for a moment. They _stole_ it. From Wayne Technologies…. and _LexCorps!?_ Nevermind, Barbara's other-self wasn't a normal girl whose father had mob connections, she was a Grade-A badass. This suited Barbara just fine. Deciding to hide her surprise she asked, "What did we steal it for?"

Tim breathed in and out. "We were going to use it to create a figure called "Batman" and finally do something about this city's stupid crime problem. I mean, you probably don't remember this but the entire city is overrun, Barbara. Mobs run the streets, madmen run around gassing banks, every night at least 300 homes are broken into- and that's being _extremely_ generous-, not to mention the mob's got its pockets in practically every institution in the city. The police won't do anything about it because it gets them and their families murdered or they're simply just paid off. The last person to really make a difference was Harvey Dent and he and his entire staff were murdered in cold blood! After that it was right back to square one!" Tim ranted heavily, his face growing red from the lack of breath he was taking, "And- and we were going to do something, Barbara. The entire idea- dressing up as a bat and beating up thugs- is completely insane, but if it works for all these cities with supers in them, why not Gotham?"

"But then I got amnesia," Barbara said. Tim's face smoothed out and he slumped down taking a big breath in and exhaled.

"Yeah, you did," he said. He turned toward the suit and picked up the helmet, holding it as if he were looking it in the eyes. "We actually stole this yesterday. You put it on, stole some gadgets we're keeping in my place, and swiped a motorcycle. It was delivered to my house and we split it up between you and me. I got the tools and boots, and you got the helmet and suit-proper. That way if one of us were caught, they wouldn't get the full suit back and the other would have something to use," Tim explained, "I think that the helmet might be defective. It's something called the Data-Knight Helm, able to connect with the user and transfer amazing amounts of data to them. Anything from drone scans to infrared to someone's favorite Wikipedia article. But the morning after you, quite possibly the first person to wear it, put it on, you wake up with absolutely no memory of anything. Probably defective or something." He put the helmet back into the case and shut it.

"I should probably also mention we aren't actually dating," he said, "We just thought it'd make a good excuse for us suddenly spending so much time together working on this."

Barbara nodded and clutched her chin between her thumb and index finger, thinking. So, even in this life Barbara wanted to pursue a life of vigilantism. Perhaps they were more similar than Barbara originally assumed. Though, she still had a few questions, such as how they even found out this thing existed and where the _hell_ Barbara got good enough to steal it. Maybe she had Selina Kyle on speed dial. Probably worth it to check later. But that left her with Tim, currently sitting on the floor and packing the suit up as he stored it back in her closet's hiding place- a hole in the back wall concealed by the hanging clothes. Clever hiding spot.

That left her with a question though- did she want to return to being a vigilante? Even if she acted as the Oracle to Tim's Batman it would still be a huge commitment. She'd still have her school work to do and she wasn't quite sure how far along she was in the school year, she'd have to ask everyone if she was a senior or freshman or what. But if she could pull it off in her previous life, she could pull it off here as well. As Tim got up, Barbara smiled and asked, "How can I help?"

Tim paused for a second before a large smile crossed his face and he _gleamed._ "Yep, you're definitely Barbara," he said, his voice sounding like it was about to burst out laughing at any moment. Barbara was briefly reminded of Dick, but quickly pushed those memories aside.

Barbara shook her head and chuckled. "Come on, let's get back downstairs," she said, "Everyone's probably wondering if we're doing something we shouldn't." Technically, they were.

 ** _Talia_**

Ra's opened the door and walked into Talia's office with the same emotionless expression he always had, taking a seat at Talia's guest chair. She didn't acknowledge him at first, continuing to re-read the email her contact had sent her. It troubled her. She had put a lot of effort to create this project, but just when things had seemingly gone according to plan a hitch in the road decided to make its appearance. She must have been considering her options for a while as Ra's, a patient man if there ever was one, said with the slightest twinge of impatience in his voice, "Talia, speak. Why have you brought me here?"

Talia placed the tablet on the desk and slid it towards Ra's. "We have a problem," she said as Ra's picked it up to read the message. Talia remembered every word perfectly.

 _From: Detective_

 _Subject: [None]_

 _Cassandra has been compromised. Details will be given at next meeting._

Ra's read it over a couple times before lowering the screen. "The meeting is tomorrow, is it not?" he asked. Talia nodded. "Find out what happened and report back to me. We will adapt our strategy accordingly," he said, handing the tablet back to Talia.

"As you command, Father," Talia said as Ra's al Ghul, leader of the League of Shadows, left her office.

 ** _Author's Notes:_** ** _I should probably point out that I realized too little too late that I've been misspelling Alyssia Yeoh's name. I also feel the need to point out that, yes, that's Carrie Kelly that's part of Barbara's friends. This was entirely unintentional so don't expect much from her on the vigilante side of things._**

 ** _On a side note, Africa's got some awesome female figures in its history. Nzinga Ndongo, to the Queen of Kush that beat Julius freaking Caesar, to the queen that helped take down Axum, to the Dahomey Amazons, Africa's got some pure metal women that will send shivers down your spine. I suggest looking them up sometime._**

 ** _Also, once again, I'm sorry this chapter is late. I had the whole thing written up for months now but preparing for the end of high school kinda got in the way of my proofreading. Speaking of which, anyone know some good Beta Readers? Callian31, signing out!_**


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